


Sebastian Niccals is One Screwed Up Dad

by tr_ash101



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Child Abuse, Drinking, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Phase One (Gorillaz)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tr_ash101/pseuds/tr_ash101
Summary: Murdoc's dad, Sebastian Niccals finds out about his son's success, and makes his way to Kong Studios for a little "visit."





	1. Chapter 1

 Sebastian Jacob Niccals stepped into the bustling Stoke-On-Trent local pub with a drunken conviction, with an empty pocket, and a head full of bad intentions. He zig-zagged his way to his regular bar stool, and was greeted by a bar maid's simpering coral pink smile. Margaret was the only woman in town who still lacked the sense to refuse him a "beer on credit", which made this pub his go-to when he hadn't won a game of cards in a while. 

 He brandished that seductive smirk he knew she liked, with a shot of whiskey on his mind. "Margaret Love, you look _gorgeous_ tonight. You're a real heart breaker, know that?"

 "Oh Bassy," She gushed that nickname that made him want to hang himself from the nearest tree. "You sure know how to make a girl blush..." Margaret would have been crimson at those words if not for the pounds of foundation caked on her face.

 "Well, I save the best of 'em for you." Sebastian gave her a quick wink, making some of the red glow through her makeup. He felt around his jacket pocket for a cigarette, as the cloud of smoke made it easier to act like a love-struck arse. All he found was a round ball of decade old lint, and an ancient chocolate wrapper.

 "You're sweet Bassy, can I get you anything? Guinness? Sandwich?" Margaret offered pathetically, leaning on the bar with her elbows, pursing her lips slightly as an attempt to make them appear thicker. 

 "I'll have a whisky, any brand you please." Sebastian pretended to reach for his wallet while Margaret busied herself with fetching the nearest bottle of amber temptation. When she added the clinking ice, and set the cheap glass in front of him, he started the usual story. "Damn! I left my bloody wallet at home! Margaret, can I come and pay you back tomorrow? It was an honest mistake Love..."

 Margaret bit her lip, with a small pang of disbelief. He was so romantic and gentlemanly, she never dreamed he would do it on purpose to trick her. The men in the pub watched the exchange, snickering to each other. "I'm sorry, I can't this time. My brother says I gotta cut it out if I'm gonna make rent this month. I can keep it cold if you like, if you wanna go home and get your wallet." 

 Sebastian's lip curled in irritation, and gritted his teeth. "Don't worry 'bout it. Been thinkin' 'bout quittin' anyway."

 Margaret didn't seem as confident as before. She drummed her inch-long azure nails on the mahogany bar table awkwardly, using her favorite small talk conversation starter. "How're your sons? They haven't come to see us in a while." 

 "Eh, I don't know where the hell any of them are. Much less Murdoc, that little arse said he was gonna take over the music charts once he made it big." Sebastian laughed huskily, with an unnerving malice in his dry chuckle. "I remember 'im, telling me how Murdoc Niccals was gonna be a household name." 

 A small group of eighteen year olds whispered like a hive of bees, grinning like they were daring each other. One of the young women in the center of the ensemble turned abruptly to face the aging man, her hazel eyes round, and eyebrows up to her hairline. "Excuse me sir, are you Murdoc Niccals' Father?!" She squealed, looking him up and down for any obvious resemblance. 

 "Yeah. What, did he rob a Tesco's in the past five years?" Sebastian scoffed, as the woman's pale face contorted into confusion. "Little shit..." 

 "I don't think so sir, I'm his biggest fan. He's a brilliant bassist, my favorite member of the band." The woman beamed brightly, leaving Sebastian as the bewildered one. It had been nearly fourteen years since his son stormed out of the house, Sebastian never imagined that he would ever be something more than a drunken layabout. 

 "What're you on about? My son? A rock star?" Sebastian snorted cockily. Last time he remembered, his son could barely scrape together five pounds, much less be rolling in cash. 

 "He's the bassist for Gorillaz! I'd never miss a single one of his concerts if I could, I saw them in Essex, I think that's where they make music and such. He's so handsome..." The woman rambled on, turning a bright red, but Sebastian stopped listening at  _concerts._ Money was usually the first thing his mind ran to, and this situation was no exception. Concerts mean money, and money means not spending spare time seducing unattractive bar maids for a quick drink. 

 Sebastian stood up, and sauntered out of the pub without a word. Margaret called after him, with a look of desperation in her watery gray eyes. "Sebastian! Where're you goin'?"

 He turned back before crossing the threshold, already a rich man as far as he was concerned. "I'm goin' to Essex Love, to pay my son a little visit." 


	2. Dad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back after a teeny tiny 5 month hiatus. Sorry about that, (Generic excuse 8768). Anyway I hope this doesn't disappoint. 
> 
> By the way, there will be a lot, and I mean, A LOT of PLATONIC Noodle and Murdoc. That's my favorite Gorillaz thing to write, Murdoc taking on a somewhat fatherly role, and with his dad present I'm curious to see how it'll end up.

 Murdoc swerved haphazardly into the Kong Studios garage, the local police sirens still wailing at the bottom of the hill. Noodle swayed in the passenger seat, holding on to the Geep door handle to keep some of her balance. The pair had just finished their "pleasant afternoon car ride"; which generally included more speeding and police chases than they decided to tell Russel. "You alright, Noodle?"

 "Hai!" Noodle laughed, looking in the passenger side mirror, to see if she could catch a glimpse of the red-faced policeman. Murdoc grinned a little, police sirens usually had him in shambles when he was a boy, but she was more amused that anything else. 

 "Good girl, don't go tellin' Russ on me now, he'll 'ave my 'ead for this." Murdoc was all too familiar with Russel's protective nature, and Murdoc's usual behavior earned him a slap on the back of his neck from the drummer.

 "Hai, Murdoc-San." Noodle chirped, hopping out of the car. Murdoc followed suit, feeling a shade more relaxed. Most people calmed their nerves with a nice cup of tea, or picking up needlepoint, but for Murdoc, a car chase did the trick. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette, fishing out a lighter and igniting the end as fast as he took it out. He took a long drag, and entered the corridor into the main room, with Noodle close behind his heels. 

 He heard laughing, and what must have been boring small talk from the other room. 2D was blocking the way to the living room, and smiled his signature dopey beam. "'Ello Murdoc, Noodle, 'ow was the drive?" 

 "Fun!" Noodle's English vocabulary was growing, and everyone in the band, including Murdoc, was pleased to see that she could answer simple questions, and say their names correctly. 

 "Sounds real nice Love. Murdoc, you got a visitor by the way, Russ' talkin' to 'im now, why didn't you eve' tell me 'bout ya Dad? 'E's nice" 2D pointed to the main room down the corridor. Murdoc thought he must have misheard. Dad? Here? No, that was behind him. Murdoc was sure of it, 2D drank too much apple juice and was rambling on again. 

 "Start makin' sense Faceache, I can't get a single thing ya sayin' when you talk nonsense." Murdoc took another drag, while 2D just looked confused, which wasn't new. "Spit it out D, I don't got all day." 

 "B-but, e's in the other room." 2D childishly pointed to the main room again. 

 "Forget it." Murdoc gruffly pushed past 2D, and continued to the end of the hallway. "Russ, Noodle and I are back."

 He turned into the room, and paled immediately. Russel was sitting on the couch, with a cup of tea in hand, and next to him, a man had made himself quite at home on the couch. Sebastian Jacob Niccals. Murdoc couldn't stop it, what he must have been feeling. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to cry, strangle Russel or the man next to him, or laugh at him. His Father stood, smiling broadly at his son. "Murdoc my boy, c'mere!" 

 Murdoc instinctively took a step back. "Why're ya here?!" He seethed. Noodle retreated behind his jean-clad leg, already nervous about this newcomer. His Father's smile had a hint of irritation to it now. 

 "What're ya talkin' 'bout, son? It's been too long since I've seen ya, you're so much taller, my boy." Murdoc was taken aback, why wasn't he standing over him with a belt in hand? This was too much, this was too soon and too sudden.

 Russel interjected. "He stopped by once you two left, and said he was visiting you. Why didn't you tell us that you had a Dad living nearby?" 

 "Cause I don't, get out! Get out of my damn house! Now!" Murdoc glared poison daggers at his Father. He was just back to guilt him, give him a few slaps for whatever he did wrong. Russel looked baffled, and his father had an expression that spelled out desperation. 

 "Murdoc! He's a guest here!" Russel stood up, and Murdoc suddenly realized that he never told 2D or Russel about his father, about the bottles of rum, about the whippings, about the monsters of "stepmothers", and the gems of them. Only Noodle knew, and by accident no less. 

 "Now son, I'm here cause I wanna make peace with ya, alright?" His Father took a step forward, and Noodle clung to his leg. His Father suddenly noticed Noodle. "Who's this?" 

 Noodle hid, she knew that he was talking about her. Murdoc patted her head, an attempt to console her without reaching forward to punch his Dad. "Noodle." He said curtly. 

 "Funny name. You havin' kids already, Son? Why didn't ya tell me?" His father grimaced. 

 "Cause I ain't, and if I did, I wouldn't tell ya anyway." Murdoc hissed. 

 "Son, I need to tell ya, that I fucked up when you were a boy. I'd like to be ya father again, and for you to be my son." His Father reached out to tenderly place a hand on Murdoc's shoulder, but he retracted immediately, an instinct he carried since the first beating.

 "Fuck off! I can't even be in the same room with ya!" Murdoc turned on his heels, and ignored all of Russel's calls, and his Father's pleads. When he reached the garage, he made a beeline for the Winnebago.


End file.
